Lately, I've been thinking a lot about repetition. Such as: what good is it? What does it do? What's it's purpose? Most of all I've been asking myself why I have this odd affinity towards it. This could be, simply, that I'm a creature of habit in the truest sense of the phrase, but recently I've found that that answer doesn't satisfy me. I am currently, as I write this, a week into my senior year at Barstow. This is also my fifteenth year at this school. In essence, I have gone and spent my entire life here. Willingly? Only sometimes, but I have found myself returning again and again, making my yearly Mecca-like pilgrimage to the overly air-conditioned building. Repeatedly, I have sat in the same classes and walked down the same halls thousands of times. So, why is it that I find myself coming back?

Claude Monet must have asked himself this question everyday as he went out to paint the Cathedral Rouen. He found himself obsessed with the way the light would rest on the cathedral, but was never quite happy with the way he painted it. Well, that may be an understatement. Monet eventually became so obsessed with the cathedral and its light that he could never pin down that he began to have nightmares about it. Eventually, Monet found himself in a rut, haunted by his subject, and had to leave Paris for a while. This is one of my favorite art history stories, and I had previously mentioned it in my post about Pissaro's obsession with the Boulevard Montmartre. Pissaro's experience with his subject was much better. In fact, I deduced that Pissaro, instead, had more of a love affair with the boulevard. Monet may have loved the cathedral - I've never been sure - but something about drew him towards it and made him want to come back after each failure.

In this instance, I so empathize with Monet. Even after all of the failures and disappointments, Basrtow has been a second home to me where I have been fortunate to meet some fantastic people. This year, I am one of only two returning students in my Art History class, and I remember how nerve wracking my first blog post was. Now, after writing one analysis after another, I feel rather seasoned and sure of myself. I repeated the same actions over and over, but I have never found it boring. Repetition is comfort. It means that you are comfortable with something or love it enough to return. For me, that's Barstow.